A bunch of bankers. Screenplay

This office is the lair of our boss Mr V.I. Mcfier. I was told that the initials stand for Victor Ian, but I am becoming more and more convinced they stand for Village Idiot. Or just Village to those that know him well. He hates me and I hate him. It hardly makes me unique in the office I can tell you.

MANAGER MR. MCFIER

Golf on Wednesday? Let me just check my diary.

Holds his hand over the receiver for a few seconds as if he is checking his diary.

MANAGER MR. MCFIER

Well I am quite busy but I think I'll be able to switch some appointments. Shall we say ten o'clock in the clubhouse? Capital!

OUR CHARACTER (V.O.)

Anyway, Village has been with the Oldshires since they operated out of caves and wolves roamed the local forests. Just a dozen generations later he has already had five promotions and reached the dizzy heights of management. Which just goes to show that lack of ability need never be a barrier to advancement in life. All you need is perseverance. Being a leading light in the Masonic Lodge is certainly not a handicap either.

BACK TO:

INT. BANKING HALL – CUSTOMERS SIDE OF COUNTER

Margaret staring ahead with a distant expression.

OUR CHARACTER (V.O.)

Margaret. Poor Margaret. Recently lost her husband after twenty four years of marriage. No, no he's not dead. She just can’t find him. One Sunday afternoon he went out to buy some cigarettes and never came back.

FLASHBACK. INT. MARGARET'S LIVING ROOM

Typical suburban living room.

Margaret sat on sofa watching favourite Soap opera.

Margaret's HUSBAND SHOUTS to her from hallway O.S.

MARGARET'S HUSBAND (O.S.)

Just off to the shops to buy some ciggies.

INT. HALLWAY

Margaret's husband opens the front door and leaves the house carrying two heavy suitcases.

OUR CHARACTER (V.O.)

Coincidentally the woman from the village grocers went missing at exactly the same time and the two incidents would seem to be connected. Let’s just say the authorities do not suspect foul play. Margaret is permanently zombied out on tranquilizers and is perilously close to beheading the next person to tell her that time is a great healer.

INT. BANKING HALL – CUSTOMERS SIDE OF COUNTER (BACK TO PRESENT)

PAN ON male cashier. MICK, 19 years old.

Counting a pile of coins and putting them into his till.

OUR CHARACTER (V.O.)

Meet Mick, a local lad with a great sense of humour. Been with us just over a year. Joined straight from school. Being a United fan and therefore a fine judge of character, Mick can’t stand Village either. Presently living at home and without a girlfriend, he recently confided to me in a drunken moment that he was thinking about buying a rubber doll but was having a problem finding one that looked like Rachael. Nothing wrong with Mick's taste in women then.

PAN TO next till. Female cashier, seen from customers side of counter.

RACHAEL, gorgeous 23 years old, chatting amiably to customer (not seen) as she hands over some cash.

OUR CHARACTER (V.O.)

Which brings me to Rachael. Ah the beautiful Rachael. Quite simply Rachael is what I go to work for. Just the view of her ass in those tight skirts makes all the crap I get off Village worthwhile. And those legs. Don't get me started on those legs. Alas I fear Rachael and her ruby red lips will remain forever beyond my reach.

ZOOM ON Rachael's beautiful face.

OUR CHARACTER (V.O.)

She only works for the bank to fill in some time until she marries a multi millionaire. And trust me, they are queuing up for the privilege. On the other hand, by the end of a five week month I am lucky to have enough cash left to buy a lottery ticket, Life's a bitch as they say.

ON next till. Another female cashier. SARAH.

Seen from customers side of counter.

Sarah, very big girl, mid thirties, waits for next customer.

SARAH

Who's next please?

OUR CHARACTER (V.O.)

Now our Sarah here is a great girl. Married with 2 young kids, pretty much the only chance she gets to let her hair down a bit is when we go for a beer after work on Fridays.

SARAH

Who's next please?

OUR CHARACTER (V.O.)

Despite her limited opportunities to practice, Sarah can throw down more drink than a parched camel. It is official office policy never to drink in a round with Sarah. Especially if you don't want to spend all the next day in bed with one foot on the floor trying to stop the world from spinning.

SARAH

Does anybody want serving? God why do I bother?

WIDE SHOT – BANKING HALL

Customers queuing in front of cashiers.